Carter nodded in agreement, groaning a little as the captain helped him limp along. He still held his submachine-gun in the arm that wasn't around Greg's shoulders, ready to fire. Though the streets ahead of them were mostly clear. The colonel clenched his teeth as pain flared up in his leg with every step, and if it weren't for Greg he probably would have collapsed by now. The bank was only a few blocks away, though as far as the old soldier was concerned, it could've been a mile.

The two crossed a couple of blocks without incident, avoiding whatever undead were shambling about with relative ease. Most were entranced in the motel's fiery demise. However, just before they reached their destination a small group of fifteen infected wandered out of a nearby alley on the two soldiers' right. "Shit..." Carter groaned, quickly bringing his weapon up. He began to fire, emptying half of his mag in 3 round bursts in an attempt to kill some of them. The first volley struck a female directly in the chest, though the recoil pushed a round upward and through its throat, leaving it nothing more than a corpse with a snapping head. The second and third bursts found their marks right in the foreheads of two more infected. However, his next two shots did nothing but burrow harmlessly into the infecteds' torsos.